


Uncounted, Crowded Stars

by Sparklesthedark



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:52:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparklesthedark/pseuds/Sparklesthedark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl and Beth find themselves alone for the first time since arriving at the Alexandria Safe Zone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rendered

**Author's Note:**

> I could not have done this without my awesome beta, Abby. Thank you so much!
> 
> The title comes from the Iron & Wine song 'Lovers Revolution.'

The first time Daryl finds himself alone with Beth after getting to the safe zone, it’s a total fuck-up.

It wasn’t that he had been avoiding her (although he definitely didn't go out of his way to talk to her).  They had just been so busy since arriving.  The first few days were overwhelming and full of information that it never crossed his mind to catch her alone.  Now, there was little to no chance of finding her by herself.

Since she had rejoined their group, Maggie had barely let her sister out of her sight.  Beth even shared an apartment now with her and Glenn, not that Daryl blamed them.  Beth was their _kin_.  You just don’t take your own blood for granted.  Daryl didn’t have a good excuse to intrude on them, and after they had received their apartments, he found very little time in his schedule anyway. Or that’s what he told himself.

He spends his spare time smoking or mentally creating an escape route to get out of the city in case of an attack.  Not exactly time consuming.

Now, after being settled, they had started getting the group together frequently.  With everyone having different jobs, it was difficult to find time to see each other.  It had been Maggie’s idea to have Spaghetti Tuesdays again.  It was nice to have a bond to keep them together now that everyone was adjusting to the unfamiliar territory of Alexandria.

This week’s dinner was to be hosted by Maggie, Glenn, and Beth.  Daryl had arrived early to find Beth alone (he thinks it might’ve been on purpose, but he won’t admit it even to himself).  She was at the sink, washing lettuce and there was water boiling on the stove with pasta cooking.  Daryl sat at the table, observing her. Her hair was in a half-ponytail, and it fell against her back lightly, moving and twirling when she would talk over her shoulder towards him. 

It’s light conversation, about their different occupations within Alexandria (he was on guard duty at the wall, while she worked shifts at the clinic).  But eventually it returns to reminiscing, the first real time they have talked since they were on the road to get here.  But then it had been desperate and she was still recovering from her traumatizing experience at the hospital.

“Remember when we ate that snake?” she laughs, turning to face him.  He nods, a small smile gracing his lips.  “God, it’s so much nicer to just have to cook now, and not catch anythin’.”

“Can’t take it too much for granted,” he reminds her.

Daryl refuses to acknowledge that they are completely safe (sooner or later, they _run_ ).  But here he was, sitting in Beth’s apartment.  An exact replica of his, a few streets down and a few floors up.  It even had furniture, linens and, _shit_ , plates and dishes.  He didn’t know what the hell to do with any of it.  He sleeps in his clothes, still convinced that at any moment, they were going to have to run again. 

At first, he had carried his crossbow everywhere.  Now it sat against the wall in his bedroom, because no one carried weapons around anymore. Daryl kept a pocket knife on his belt and a loaded pistol in his work bag daily, but he didn’t mention it to anyone except Carl, who had asked.  He figured that by now, it had been a while since they had settled into the city, and if he hadn't seen a walker yet, he wouldn't for a long time. 

 “Daryl,” she says softly, “we are safe.”

“Only a matter of time.”  She is used to his cynicism, which is probably why she doesn’t argue.

Beth just nods, and his heart does this stupid thing when she smiles.  He feels like a stupid teenage boy and he hates himself.  “I thank God every day for everything we got here.  You surely don’t want me havin’ to use that crossbow.  Last time that happened, I got my ankle in a twist.”  Daryl doesn't exactly know how to respond to that, so he just sits quietly.

Beth looks like she wants to keep reminiscing, but she smiles and turns back around.  “Could you help me with this?” she asks, gesturing toward the uncut vegetables on the counter.  “Just cut them any way you like, they’re for the salad.”

The chair creaks as he gets up, and he starts chopping vegetables.  He can here Merle’s voice in his head, _Got you whipped like a goddamn pussy, boy_.  He pushes those thoughts from his head, focusing on the task at hand.  He goes to grab the rag to wipe the blade off before starting the tomatoes but Beth had been reaching for it at the same time.  His hand had closed over hers without meaning to.

“Oh,” she whispered, looking up at him.  He hadn’t reacted like he ought to have, keeping his hand closed over hers.  Daryl raised his gaze to meet hers, and found her eyes full of something he didn’t have a name for.

She was so close to him.  When did that even happen?  Daryl didn’t bother with trying to explain anything to himself anymore where it concerns her.  He was flooded with memories of how she had made him feel when they were sitting at the table in the funeral home, how she had looked at him without knowing how he felt.  Until she did.

He had been so scared of losing her.  And then he did.  But he found her, and now she was here in front of him, and he had a chance to finish what he had started in a different kitchen.  Her eyes lock on his lips, and he takes the invitation without a second thought.

“Beth,” he groaned as he pulled back a little, brushing his lips over the corner of her mouth.  She was humming with anticipation, and he took advantage of it by backing her against the wall, pushing her small frame against his body.  One of his hands cradled her face while the other brushed against her collarbone and made her shiver.  She kept her hands fisted in his hair, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered into his mouth hotly.  He felt _something_ run up and down his spine, shooting right down below his abdomen.  Their tongues came together hotly, and Daryl couldn’t imagine a situation where he had felt more passion in his life.  The feel of Beth.  Her soft lips over his.  He couldn't focus on anything except how she smelled, how she tasted.  How pliant she was beneath his fingers, and she moaned and he swore, biting her lower lip a little too hard.

“Beth, wait…” he gasps, as her fingers go beneath the front of his shit, ghosting over his skin.  He tried to break away, but her lips just moved to his neck, and he forgot his own name.

Then reality came crashing back down on him and he remembered why this was such a horrible idea.  And he pushed her away roughly, and she looked back at him with hurt in her eyes.  He recognized that now.

“Daryl…” her eyes lit up in confusion.

“This ain’t right,” he tells her firmly.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“We can’t, Beth.”

She doesn't say anything, just looks down at the floor.  Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are swollen and she looks so achingly beautiful and he wants nothing more than to push her back up against the wall, but he can’t.  He isn’t right for her.  He’s not the only option she has left and he won’t have her if she could be with someone better.

She turns back to the stove, and Glenn and Maggie choose that moment to come back.

“Beth, you shouldn't have started without us!  We need to help too!” Maggie reprimands her younger sister as she walks into the kitchen.

Daryl knows Beth well enough by now to see the smile she forces for her sister is fake, and maybe Maggie notices too, but she doesn’t say anything.  The air is heavy and wrought with tension, and Daryl turns back to the vegetables, ignoring the unsettling feeling in his stomach.

He doesn't go out of his way to speak to Beth the rest of the night, choosing instead to sit by Rick and Carl.  Carol and Michonne are across and join casually in conversation occasionally, but Daryl prefers to be reclusive tonight and reluctant to speak to anyone other than the Grimes family.  Even then, it’s not a very enlightening or stimulating exchange.

“Got guard duty with you tomorrow,” Rick reminds him.

“Bright ‘n early,” Daryl says grimly.

His eyes keep flitting over to Beth on the end of the table.  She’s staring at her plate, not particularly talking to anyone beside her.  One time she looks up at him to find their gazes connect, and he looks away to the other side to find Rick giving him a watchful eye.

He feels many different types of guilt swimming in his gut all at once.  Maybe it was some kind of reluctant culpability for Beth being so subdued.  Her usual amicability was hidden in her expressionless face.  Then it might have been shame that worked its way in there when Rick raised an eyebrow.  A silent, _what is going on_?

Carol and Michonne seem to be silently discussing him as well, and he wants to up and leave and forget that he had ever kissed Beth because this was the kind of shit that came back to bite his ass as consequences.  They had no business butting into his moment with Beth (and he couldn't even be sure that they were, but he hated feeling _watched_ ).

 “Should probably turn in soon,” Rick says some time later, after several silent attempts to get Daryl to explain what was going on.

Daryl is relieved and quickly agrees, and they stand to leave.  He says goodbye to Glenn and Maggie but merely waves to Beth, awkwardly sliding past her on his way out the door.  He notices the blush creep up her face, but Rick seemed not to (and if he did, he didn't mention it).

“Can you teach me to shoot the crossbow, now that we’re not in a life-or-death situation?” Carl inquires on the walk home.

“Maybe,” Daryl says, stopping at his apartment.  He waves at Rick who nods back (he sees the look in his eye that tells Daryl that Rick won’t be forgetting his unusual behavior anytime soon).  Then he nods at Carl.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” the kid grins smugly.

Daryl just shakes his head and heads inside, his legs feeling like lead as he trudged up the stairs.  He fell face-first onto the bed, didn’t even bother to undress or grab a pillow.  He expelled every thought and feeling from his head, and just fell asleep.

Didn't even bother to turn off the lights.


	2. Incendiary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are all awesome! This is the second to last part, so let me know what you think! Kudos are always appreciated :)

“You’re late,” the foreman told Daryl as he climbed the ladder.  He threw his cigarette over the side of the wall, taking his place on the north side of the wall as per usual.  No apology.  No explanation.  Not that anyone expected one from him at this point.

He had slept like a rock last night, and as a result did not wake up in time for his shift.

“Wanted some extra time with your girlfriend, eh?” one of the other guys asked.  Daryl ignored them.

“Oh please, Red, we all know you’re just jealous your woman ain’t fit and fine like Dixon’s.”

There was a chorus of rude laughing and one of the men made an egregious joke about Red’s wife and her size and a bed, and Red just covered his ears, “I’m going to pretend really, really hard that I didn’t hear that.”

Daryl disregarded the lot of them, as always.  He knew they were talking about Michonne.  He was only willing to let it go because the single time he had threatened to hit them, Michonne had threatened to hit Daryl twice as hard, and he let it rest.  She could take care of herself and Daryl had no reason to feed their ridiculous antics.

They shut up quickly as Rick climbed the top rung, and he stared them all down.  Daryl knew they had a silent respect when it came to the former sheriff.  Couldn’t say he blamed him.  Rick was a natural leader and commanded the attention and discipline of every man he was in the same room with.

“Talking about me again?” he mutters as they walk toward the east tower.

“Still think I’m dating Michonne,” Daryl laughs.

“Funny,” Rick deadpans, narrowing his eyes.  They continue in silence until they reached the watch tower, where a new foreman hands them their weapons (though they haven’t had to use them yet) and leaves them alone.

“You know, speaking of dating, I’ve been meaning to bring up something,” Rick started.

Daryl clammed up, suddenly nervous.  “I ain’t no good with advice.  If it’s Michonne-related, you best be talkin’ to Carol.  Not me.”

He just laughs.  “Exactly.  You’re the one who needs advice.”

“I ain’t talkin’ bout that.”  He lights a cigarette.

“Fine,” Rick says sternly.  “But you need to answer to yourself.  Because the rest of us are sick of watching you kill yourself over it.  Either talk to Beth, or get over it.  That’s all I’m gonna say.”

Daryl takes a long drag, pretending he hadn’t heard the man sitting beside him.

“Last night, I don’t know what the hell happened between you two, but it guilt was written on _both_ of your faces.  Now you don’t have to talk to me about it.  I get it.  But I want you to know that you definitely aren’t hiding it from anyone.”

He didn’t know what to say, partially because he tried so very hard to _not_ think about Beth in his thoughts.  And that had worked until he had pressed her against the wall in her kitchen yesterday.  The mere thought made his blood boil, and he thought about anything else to forget it.

 “Whatever,” he muttered, stubbing it out on the floorboards.

Rick shook his head.  “Your call.  Ain’t my happiness.”

“She don’t make me happy,” Daryl mumbled.  “Obviously. I wouldn’t be sittin’ here in a shit mood if she did.”

“Love doesn’t make you happy all the time.”  He didn’t want to think about that word.  Didn’t want to think about what it implied.  It was not what this was.  Not back then, not now, not ever.  When Daryl said nothing, Rick continued.  “Lori and I weren’t exactly happy toward the end there.  But that doesn’t make it any less important to me.”

Daryl sat, silent. 

“I know you might not think you’re in love, but Daryl, everyone else knows.”

“It ain’t like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

Daryl thought for a minute.  At first it had been about revenge, when they had burned down that shack.  It was revenge on brokenness and the unfair life they had been handed after the prison.  And then it had been about not getting feelings.  And then he got them.

And shit, he was fucked.  The moment he had lost her, he knew.  He just knew.

Now here he was, months later, sitting in a walled city.  The perfect place to have a relationship, the perfect place to be with her.  And he was too much of a pussy to even admit his own feelings to himself.

“Exactly,” Rick said.

Daryl remained expressionless.

“Why don’t you come over tonight, have a drink?  We can forget about all this, if you like.”

He thinks of Beth.  Wanting a drink.  And fuck, he’d take anything right now to just _forget_.

“Fine.”

\\\

“This isn’t working, is it?” Rick asks, sometime after they are sufficiently drunk.  Daryl had been looking at the ground, but his head snapped up quickly.  The air shifted to something much more heavy between the pair.  “You ain’t gonna just up and forget about her.”

Daryl mumbles something incoherent, and Rick shakes his head, pouring more liquor into his glass.

“I didn’t mean that you should,” Rick chuckles, sliding the bottle on the ground closer to the archer.  Daryl didn’t reach out to grab it.  He pulled his legs closer, to rest his elbows on them.  “C’mon, Daryl.”

“Daryl,” Rick says again, more seriously.  Daryl picks his gaze up off the floor, looking his friend dead in the eye.  “You love her.”

“No!” Daryl shouts as he jumps up.  The bottle falls over and rolls away, clinking against the railing of the balcony.  He runs his hands over his face, unable to think, unable to _feel_.  “I can’t!  You don’t get it.”

Rick held his stare, not looking away until Daryl did.

“I _can’t_.”

“Can’t what?” Rick asks matter-of-factly.  There was silence, and that prodded Daryl enough to speak.

“Love her,” he mutters, somewhat embarrassed.

Then Rick was standing up too, hands on the railing, looking out at the city that was dimly lit with what electricity they had.  Daryl just leaned against the wall, lighting a cigarette.  Rick spoke with his back to Daryl, his voice deep and strong.

“You are the only person in the whole world who thinks that.”

And Daryl suddenly has nothing but anger coursing through his blood.  He chucks his glass against the wall and watches as it shatters everywhere.  It wasn’t enough.  He kicks the almost empty bottle off the balcony and hears it break against the ground a few seconds later.  Daryl gives up and slumps against the wall, defeated and sad.

Rick squats on the arm of the chair, looking at him.  He sighs.

“Help me,” Daryl appeals.  Rick nods, holding his hand out.  Daryl takes it, pulling himself up, leaning against the railing.  “I don’t know what to do.”

“I know.”

There is a silence, and then Daryl speaks again.  “I want her.  I want her _so much_.”  The pain was written on his face, from the time he had spent torturing himself into believing that he didn’t feel anything more for Beth.

“Maybe I do love her,” and he stops because this is a confession he knows he wouldn’t’ make to anyone, and Rick takes that in for the moment, appreciating Daryl’s honesty, even if it stems from a drunken impetus.  

“But it don’t matter what _I_ feel.  I can’t, because it ain’t right, not with this place and…” he trails off, waving his hand.

Rick just stares.

“I owe her more than that.  She needs to live the life she ought to have…  I ain’t right for her.”

“That ain’t true.”

Daryl just looks away, out into the night.  “What would her daddy say?  What would you say if it was Judith?”

“I’ll be grateful if my girl can find someone half as decent as you.”  Rick sighs and runs a hand over his face tiredly.  “Look, I can sit here all damn day and tell you that I think you deserve her.  But if you don’t believe it, it’s no use.  So you can sit here and be fucking miserable,” Daryl laughs bitterly, but Rick continues, “or you can go do something about it.”

He knows this feeling.  Anxiety.  Guilt.  A sick combination of the two.

_I survived and you don't get it 'cause I'm not like you or them.  But I made it and you don't get to treat me like crap just because you're afraid._

Rick is looking at him like he genuinely cares about Daryl’s reaction to this situation, and he can’t fathom what he did in a past life to deserve the people he has here in Alexandria.

_I ain't afraid of nothing._

(Now he realized the irony of his words back at the cabin.  He was _scared_.  Scared out of his mind that he could be happy.  That this could work.)

Rick reads his mind.  “You’re scared, Daryl.  I get it.”  His hand rests lightly on Daryl’s shoulder, and their stares meet again.  “I was scared with Lori.  I’m sure Glenn was scared with Maggie.”

Rick sighs.  “Like I said before, though.  Doesn’t make it any less important.”

Daryl nods, conceding.  He makes to get up, but Rick makes him sit back down.

“Not like this.  Tomorrow, when you’re not lit like a Christmas tree.”


	3. Acumen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Thank you so much for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks. I really appreciate it! This is the third and final installment of the story. There may or may not be a sequel, but that depends on the feedback I get from you guys. So give me feedback! Either in the comments or the little kudos button (I am a big fan of the kudos button and really wish ff dot net would do something similar). Again, thanks to my beta, Abby. I couldn't do it without her.

His hand is rolled into a fist as he walks past her apartment.  Bits and pieces of his conversation with Rick last night float to the front of his mind.  His confidence had not really fueled itself anymore after their drunken conversation, and he cowered as he knocked on the door to the first-floor apartment.

“Daryl?” Beth’s question hangs in the air as she steps outside. 

The air is cold and he’s out here looking like a fool.  He can hear the radio inside as she shuts the door, and he wonders if it’s not too late, if he’s still able to turn around and go back to his apartment and pretend he didn’t walk all the way here to tell her he was in love with her.  _Stupid_ , he tells himself.  The words in his head didn’t even sound right.

“Beth…I…”  Words would not form.

He thinks she is going to be curt, but when she sees that he is struggling, her shoulders drop and she looks at him the way you look at broken people.  And she gets why he came, he can see the exact moment Beth realizes what exactly his intentions are.

“Daryl,” she whispers softly, “…You can—just—you can tell me that you didn’t mean what happened.  It doesn’t matter.”  It takes him a few minutes to realize she is talking about the kiss in the kitchen a few days ago.  And he suddenly realizes that he had left her thinking about this while he had been figuring out what he felt for her.

Then he felt like an ass.

He watches as she looks down at the ground, small and scared.  And then something hits him like train.  She is giving him a way out.

She is just as scared as he is.

But she’s still talking and he really should try to listen instead of focusing on her eyes or her hair or the way her arms are crossed across her chest that give her just a hint of cleavage in her thin tank top that is covered with a long sweater.  The cold nighttime air makes her cheeks heat up and he can’t think of anything more beautiful.

“I’m not gonna be angry with you,” she says.  “I can understand that you don’t want anything more between us, and I won’t ever bring it up again.  So just tell me…”  He’s still staring at her like an idiot.  “…That it didn’t mean anything.  It’ll all be okay.”

He could lie.  He could tell her that kissing her had meant nothing.  That he didn’t feel a single thing when her lips had covered his own, when her tongue had been so softy pressed against his.  That he wasn’t so turned on that it hurt when her fingers had brushed his neck.  But it would be worse to lie to her.

Daryl could lie to himself and pretend that he didn’t love her; but he was done lying to Beth about it.

“You can tell me—”

“I meant it.”

And the cold September air hung heavy with desire and unspoken confessions of love and everything that had happened between them in the past few months.  And Daryl’s mind briefly flits back to when he had come into her cell to tell her Zach was dead, and he wonders if the universe had planned this from the start.

Beth’s eyes were kindled with something he vaguely recognized as desire, something he had seen from her before, but maybe only just finally began to fully understand.  He wonders what she sees in him, because he still feels stupid and silly for even coming here, because he doesn’t just do stuff like this.

Then everything happened at once.

Beth raced toward him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, and the force of her knocking into him landed both of them in the grass.  He was on his back, looking up at her on top of him (something stirs in his lower stomach but he doesn’t care).  Her hair was like halo against the inky black sky, and she looked angelic as she leaned down to brush her lips against the corner of his mouth.  The uncounted, crowded stars disappeared from the sky and reappeared behind his eyelids, growing in number as she increased the pressure.

“I really did mean it,” he whispers again, hands gripping the sides of her hips as she settled herself.  Her feather-like lips ghosted up the column of his throat, and he can’t breathe or think, but he keeps whispering it over and over against her.

“I wanted you to, so bad,” she half laughed, half cried. “Oh God, I’ve never prayed for something so hard in my whole life.”  And then his tongue is tracing her lips, and they are kissing and it’s mad and crazy and frightening and wonderful.  A groan tugs at his throat as she pulls away, her forehead leaning against his.

Then he remembered why he came here, and he sat up, her knees spreading out on either side of his lap.  He wants to touch her and kiss her and maybe even more, but they really need to talk and he never thought he would be the one who initiated it.

“I _can’t_ …” He whispered, taking his hands off her shoulders.  He wanted this feeling so badly, but he couldn’t be this guy for her. 

It would be so much easier if she wasn’t so close to him.  Her lilac and honey scent confusing his thoughts, embedding itself into his brain and not really helping him function properly.  Daryl watched her reaction painfully, as her eyes went from happy to confused to angry.

“What do you mean?”  Her voice was so small.

“I…I ain’t the right guy for this Beth,” he tells her, not looking her in the eye.

“You weren’t lying before when you said…” she says, although it comes out sounding more like a question.

“No,” he tells her.  But he’s still stumbling over what he’s trying to say.  He’s too lovesick and too unsure of himself to make any sense.  But love never made sense to him anyway.

“Then what do you mean right now?” she asks sternly.

He sighs, and looks at her.  She looks…defeated.

“Look at me, Beth.  I’m twice your age at least.  Old ‘nough to be your dad.  I ain’t never been in love with anyone before, and I don’t know how these things work.  But I’d bet that this wouldn’t work.  You deserve to find someone worth bein’ with, someone you can choose.  Not just someone you got stuck with.”

She doesn’t say anything.  Her eyes just look at him, and she looks so sad, and it breaks his heart almost as much as hers, but he knows he’s doing her a favor, making her future better because he understands that if he really loves her, he should let her go.

“Oh, Daryl,” she whispers, face moving closer to his again.  “You love me,” she says.  And suddenly she’s repeating it within a centimeter of his face and he can’t control his mind or his heart with this proximity.  He takes her wrists in his hands, holds them in the air and looks her dead in the eye.

And he knows it’s true.  Suddenly it all hits him at once and he’s overcome with these feelings inside his chest.  He’s heard of things like this, how human emotion can overcome a person so much that it _hurts_ even when it’s good.  And now he gets it.

Except he’s stuck because she was supposed to be angry that he didn’t want to be with her, not reveling in the fact that he felt this way.  It was going to make this whole thing so much harder.

“Beth you can’t,” he hiccupped.  “You can’t be…”

“Daryl,” she whispers, shushing him with her index finger.  “I love you.  Whatever you’re thinking…just don’t.”

She takes a deep breath and her eyes are filled with tears and he realizes she is sad for _him_ , not because he is (trying to) turn her away.  “Daryl, I am old enough to make my own choices.  And I _choose_ you.  It’s not because I got stuck with you.  You’re a good person.  You’re one of the good ones left.”

He feels so much at once when he looks into her eyes.  Beth just touches the side of his face, keeping his eyes on hers.  “If you don’t want to be with me because you don’t have feelings for me, I would understand.  But if you’re afraid of what other people will say, or you think I am incapable of making a decision about my own feelings, then you are the one who is wrong.”

“What would your dad say, Beth?  I can’t do this to Hershel, he’s—”

“My dad is gone, Daryl,” she says sternly.  “He is gone and he would have wanted me to be happy.  And that is when I’m with you.”  He can’t find any words to say, and she shifts her weight and he’s suddenly reminded of the fact that she’s sitting on his lap and _knows_ that she feels him.

“Why are you making this so difficult?” she asks, turning her head to the side and looking into his eyes.

In that second, he makes up his mind.  That if Beth didn’t truly have any qualms about this, about _them_ , then how could he?  He couldn’t be without her.  Couldn’t stand the idea of never kissing her again.

(When he was chasing that car all night after she had been kidnapped, Daryl realized that he had been doomed from the start because Beth Greene doesn’t just come into your life and leave without also leaving a giant, gaping hole in the middle of your heart).

He couldn’t think of a good reason.  He shakes his head, his chin against his chest, the defeat evident in his shoulder.  He was tired of pushing her away, tired of always trying to get her to see what was wrong with this.  Daryl couldn’t push her away now, even if he wanted to.

“So don’t,” she whispered.  He hadn’t realized he had said that out loud.

Their gazes met.

He took a leap of faith and came breaths away from her lips, just hesitating and giving her a chance to back off.  But she didn’t back down.  She didn’t step away.  If anything, she leaned forward a little more in anticipation.

Lips brushed the corner of her mouth; and he lost control after that.

His thoughts were jumbled like her hair in his hands, and he felt no reason to yield or slow down.  It was all happening at a hundred miles an hour, all too fast.  He tried to enjoy the moment, to embed everything in his mind.  Her tongue traced a pattern on the roof of his mouth, and he gripped her hips harder, clutched at her skin like it was going to be the last thing he ever touched in this world.

Beth’s fingers crept under his shirt, and she broke away to stare at him, her blue eyes filled with sweetness and love and so many other things that he didn’t have the patience to name.  It took his sanity away, stole his breath. He wanted her.  So much.  “Daryl,” she whispered.  Her voice was silky and wrapped its way into his gut, and he felt something tug in his lower stomach.

They kissed again, softly, slowly.  Her hands ventured further up his shirt, flattening against his stomach, then to his chest and shoulders.  It felt so good.  He didn’t know this could ever have this kind of feeling attached.  Her fingers worked magic over his skin, and he almost forgot about his own hands until they brushed against the bare skin of her hip.

She climbed further into his lap, and Daryl felt a groan come from deep within his throat as she shifted her weight over him.  He left her lips to taste the corner of her mouth, her jaw line, all the way back to the shell of her ear.  He felt her shiver when his teeth lightly grazed her skin, and she sighed happily as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

“Daryl, I mean…just, oh god,” she whispers, her breathing labored.

“Yes?” he breathes against her skin, licking a path back up to her lips.

It takes her a few seconds to gather her composure, but she glances down between them and then she looks back at him.  She’s blushing.  “We don’t have to sit out in the yard, you know.”  Then they are both laughing and he is carrying her into her apartment because he can’t imagine letting go of her just yet.

“Maggie and Glenn are already in bed,” she whispers against his neck.  “Just go to my room.”

And he navigates his way there, to the open door down the hall and to the left.  He kicks it shut behind him and the lays her gently on the bed.  She’s looking at him softly as he kicks his boots off and settles on top of her, propping himself up on his elbows.

Her fingers trace the sides of his face, and the low hum she makes in her throat lets him know she can feel him pressed against her.  He breaks their gaze to kiss her softly, and there are a thousand permissions within it, but he has to ask anyway.

“Are you sure?”

“More than anything,” she whispers.

He pressed down further on top of her, his lips devouring her neck.  Soft moans and sighs escape her mouth, making him grunt against her mouth, apparently satisfied.

He pulled her shirt, revealing a plain bra underneath.  Daryl has never seen anything more beautiful in his life.  Beth didn’t compare to the shameless fucks he had had in the past, and she certainly couldn’t hold a candle to any stupid bitch in any of Merle’s dirty magazines.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, and she giggles lightly, cupping his cheek.  He gazes at her, unable to look away, even below.  She slowly pulled his shirt off, pulling him back down on top of her to hold him.  His warm skin met with hers; sending shivers against her back, goose bumps running up and down her legs.

He stops.  He knows she has seen his scars before, but now it seemed so much more intimate, so much more meaningful.

She soothes him softly, brushing her fingers gently along his back.  “It’s okay, Daryl,” she murmurs, kissing his temple.  “We don’t have to worry about it right now.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and brings his arms around her, undoes the clasp in the back, breathing in the scent of her skin as he does so.  When Daryl leans back, the sight before him is almost enough for him to lose it.  She blushes and looks away, embarrassed. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers again, his hands reaching up to touch her, making her arch her back against the bed.  He begins to kiss from her stomach up, caressing her sides as he moves north.  She bites her lip, holding back a moan, but she can’t take it after a while.  These sensations are irresistible, and he felt like he was on cloud nine after hearing the way she sighed his name.

She moves to flip them over, so she can be on top, but he shakes his head, pulling her face closer to him.  His lips devour hers in a hungry, lust-ridden kiss.  She is like putty in his hands as he has his way with her, trailing kisses down her jaw, biting softly and nibbling at the sensitive skin on her neck and below her ears.

Her pants are removed before she can say another word, and the only fabric left on her are her soaked panties.  He toys with the line of her underwear, pinching his fingers along the edges, watching her face intently as he does so.

Feeling adventurous, he slides two fingers under the elastic, finding her so wet.

“It’s all for you,” she whispers breathlessly, writhing under his touch.

He kisses her as he works her beneath his fingers, her breaths becoming more ragged.  He’s sure she is ready for him, but he wants to make this as good for her as possible.  She seemed to be getting the point, because she grabbed his wrist, and he stopped.

Her hands go to his belt buckle, and he lets her finish undressing him, wordlessly.

He puts his fingers to her swollen lips, kissing her forehead softly.  Words seem to be carelessly whispered between them while their mouths continue to smash together, and their hands fumble with each other’s newfound skin.  He pulls her back down onto bed, her lips trailing down his skin.

“I love you,” she whispers into the crook of his neck.  “I’ll love you forever, and I can’t live without you,” she repeats, kissing his chest.  He shudders, absentmindedly twirling her hair with his fingers.  He’s looking into her eyes the entire time he enters her, and they move slowly at first.

It’s too much for him.  Daryl feels like he’s about to explode in more ways than one, bringing himself and Beth closer to the edge.  He would have scoffed at the term _making love_ a few months ago (and maybe even yesterday) but right now, he can’t find any other word to describe their intimacy.

It’s certainly not fucking.

His lips brush her forehead as she comes down, and they lay there after, breathing heavily and unable to break apart.  It’s only when he hears a hard knock on the wall next door that he remembers Maggie and Glenn were in the room next to theirs.

Beth started to laugh slowly.  “Finally, we can pay them back for all those times in the prison they woke us up.”

Daryl smirked into her skin.  “Give me a few more minutes.  We can get payback all night.”


End file.
